


Quaere Iustitia

by ScriptedScarlet



Category: One Piece
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Canon Compliant, Canon Related, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:42:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25533058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptedScarlet/pseuds/ScriptedScarlet
Summary: Quaere - (Latin) to seek, or in legal terms, to query, inquire, or express doubt.Iustitia - justice, or the personification of such.In a government built on lazy justice, unclear justice, and absolute justice, Coby finds it hard to know what 'justice' he is supposed to ascribe to. He lies awake at night and wonders...what is 'justice' in a system where the definition of justice constantly changes? And what ishisdefinition of justice?He ponders these things as he sorts paperwork, and a dark-haired woman from the East Blue turns up, bound for Impel Down.
Relationships: Coby/Helmeppo (One Piece)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	Quaere Iustitia

**Author's Note:**

> This is...not very original because this is all I write about. Alvida has freckles in this because it's my fanfic and I say so. 
> 
> This fic was originally written in 2017 and left partially unfinished in my drive with several other random "Coby runs into Alvida" stories, many of which ultimately ended up scrapped or modified for my OPBB fic, Keeping Your Silence. (My drabble Missed Connection is another one of these little stories). This one was the most complete of any of these little drafts, so I gave it a quick polish and said why not. 
> 
> It was a quick work, I hope there aren't too many errors.

Coby had always believed in justice.

That was why he had joined the Marines, after all, right? To punish those who would harm the weaker or less fortunate. To protect those without a voice, to help the world sleep at night.

“How very idealistic, Koby,” Helmeppo yawned, rolling over in his hammock. “You knew my dad. That outtgha give you a taste of the system.”

Coby had initially dismissed Helmeppo’s musings, wanting to give him time to heal from his father’s reign of terror, and to offer a hand of friendship. He'd show Helmeppo that the _both_ of them would change the world in pursuit of justice! Morgan was merely one bad apple. 

Coby realized what Helmeppo was talking about a week later, when the morning news ran a small, discrete article, indicating that Morgan had resigned from his position and would be retiring.

“But that’s not true!” gasped Coby. “Luffy-san and Zoro-san de-”

“You believe everything you read in the papers?” muttered Helmeppo, sullenly. “Now watch your mouth about ‘Luffy-san’ and ‘Zoro-san.’”

Still, Coby continued doggedly onward, determined to represent the face of justice, even as he scrubbed floors and dusted cannonballs.

After all, there was someone in his past to whom he had sworn he would deliver justice. He was determined to make good on that promise.

Except that the face of justice seemed to change depending on who was delivering said 'justice.' The Marines didn’t even seem to have a unified definition of justice, which perplexed Coby. Lazy justice? Unclear justice? _Absolute_ justice?

Which ‘justice’ was he, _Coby_ supposed to follow?

“Why would they just reassign Nezumi somewhere else?” Coby asked, rolling over in his hammock to look at Helmeppo. “They should have done an investigation. He was extorting those people on that island! They can’t just stick him at another base. What if he does it again?” 

“You ask too many questions,” muttered Helmeppo. “You’re gonna get yourself in trouble. Go to sleep.”

It was a few months later that Coby got his first up close and personal understanding that Marine lives were expendable in the name of ‘justice.’ 

He witnessed as the Marine ship he’d been assigned to was more than willing to shoot Helmeppo right along with his father, to prevent Morgan from escaping.

Coby couldn’t believe that Vice-Admiral Garp would order fire upon another Marine - essentially sentencing Helmeppo to death along with his father. This couldn’t be justice.

Coby had been quite certain that his life was forfeit then and there, when he had placed himself in front of the cannon, protecting Helmeppo. 

And yet, Garp had stretched out a hand to Coby and Helmeppo. A hand that had yielded opportunity. 

Coby learned a valuable lesson that day: challenging the system _could_ be rewarded. 

There was room for _his_ definition of justice.

“Helmeppo-san, why do we work for the Celestial Dragons?” Coby mused aloud. “They keep slaves. They own people. That’s not right. It’s not right to force someone to work for you and not let them leave.” 

“Koby, my love,” murmured Helmeppo, arms wrapped around Coby protectively. “Please sleep. No more justice tonight.”

“Didn’t you read what they wrote about Enies Lobby? They covered up everything Luffy-san did! And to think that Buster Calls-”

“Shhh...” mumbled Helmeppo into his hair, pulling Coby closer. “No more about Luffy-san. Sleep.”

Coby thought about someone else, someone who, like the Celestial Dragons, thought that they were better than everyone else, and had treated him as though they had owned his life. 

And Coby thought about his promise of justice, and returned to a comfortable fantasies of idealism and retribution, falling asleep nestled in Helmeppo’s arms in his hammock. 

* * *

“Here kid, file these for me. They’ve all been paid or terminated.”

“Yes sir.”

Coby dutifully took the stack of Wanted posters from Commander Brannew and began sorting them alphabetically.

Garp was away for the week and had designated Coby and Helmeppo to a variety of menial, boring tasks after Enies Lobby as “punishment,” in addition to their training regime with Bogard. 

Coby had ended up in Brannew’s office, and had largely been tasked with helping him catch up on paperwork.

Coby didn’t exactly mind sorting through old bounties and documents, he found it more dull than anything. Helmeppo on the other hand had done nothing but gripe about helping Tsuru organize decades old navigation charts. 

“Ugh, six new requests for assessment of bounties in the East Blue,” muttered Brannew, skimming a report. “It’s the goddamn East Blue for chrissakes. Someone steals their neighbour’s pocket watch or gets knifed in an alley, and they’re crying for me to print them posters and send in the troops.”

Brannew sighed, handing Coby another stack of papers. “If the branches in the East Blue saw half the stuff that turns up on my desk from the Grand Line, they’d think twice about sending me a mountain of requests for bounties every time someone gets pick-pocketed,” he muttered. “I don’t have time to assign piddling bounties for every petty crime, when there are _real_ criminals out there like the Worst Generation.”

“It must be very frustrating to try and do all the research and financial management necessary for assigning bounties,” said Coby. “I would imagine most don’t understand it’s not as simple as just slapping a number on a perpetrator.” 

“It’s not even just that. It’s the meetings, the record keeping, seeing that bounties are adjusted or increased, tracking active bounties where we can, updating constantly, and the paperwork, the goddamn paperwork. To which, you’ve been a big help,” Brannew added, smiling. Coby beamed, flushing pink. 

“If you ever want a desk job, kid, I’ll gladly take you on,” said Brannew, turning back to the financial ledger. 

“I think I’d rather stay in the field,” Coby laughed. “But thank you. I’m curious, have there been any major arrests in the East Blue, recently?” he added, carefully choosing his words.

Coby had taken it upon himself to poke around a few files about active pirates in the East Blue over the last week.

He knew he was chasing a folly. An East Blue criminal was unlikely to turn up all the way at Marine headquarters. Several bounty hunters had turned up over the week while Coby was working with their captives in tow, but they had all been from the Grand Line or other Blues.

“You’re from there, right? Nothing recent in the prizes that I’ve had reported,” said Brannew, surveying the ledger of bounties turned in at East Blue branches. “All the more reason they don’t need to be hassling me for more work.” 

Coby did not particularly like referring to pirates as “prizes” or “bounties,” as if they were an item you simply could turn up with and trade in for money. It was the idea of trading humans for money that Coby did not particularly like, though he had to reconcile that bounty hunting served a purpose. 

“Here, put these with the financial paperwork on the North Blue. We need to allot more funds up there, crime has been on the rise,” said Brannew, handing Coby another folder. “And when you’re done with that go take the reports to Sengoku.”

Coby ducked behind the filing cabinets and began sorting. He wanted to continue to poke around the East Blue files. Perhaps after he got back he could --

"Goddamn Marine pigs! Stop dragging me, I-"

“Shut up.”

The sound of chains and a harsh cry; Coby turned to see a pair of Marines pulling a woman into the office by a length of chain pinning her arms.

She was incredibly tall, taller than both the Marines, wearing a long purple coat, and shackled at the wrists and ankles. Her face was smeared with dirt and streaked makeup, her long black hair disheveled. 

She was breathing heavily, clearly trying to uphold the bravado that most pirates clung to upon arrest, her eyes defiant and glistening. But the cuffs behind her back were seastone; Coby knew she must be exhausted. Her left earlobe was bleeding profusely and running down her neck, which struck Coby as an odd place to sustain an injury, among other scrapes and cuts.

Coby stared at the woman. Some strange, unidentifiable feeling suddenly knotted in his stomach. Something felt... _off_ , in a way that had nothing to do with why a pair of Marines had turned up here instead of bounty hunters. 

“Let go of me, you bastards,” she snarled, trying to yank herself free of their grasp. “Get your fucking hands off me.”

“For chrissakes, enough dramatics,” one of them muttered, pushing her unceremoniously to her knees. “We ain’t got time for this nonsense.”

“Oi, Brannew, we’re here to cash in.”

Coby was perplexed. Marines didn’t usually cash in bounties. If a pirate was arrested, they might receive a small percentage as a bonus once the arrest was processed, but they usually sent arrests straight to prison. Stopping by to claim a bounty wasn’t part of the job.

“Ah, Louis, Bertram,” said Brannew standing up, as the pair saluted him. “It’s been awhile. How’s the wife, Bertram?”

“She’s due in six weeks! We’re counting the days!”

“Tch, does your wife know that you’re feeling up all the pirates you arrest?” muttered the woman. “Or is it just _me_ that gets that honor? God, I’d feel bad for any woman stuck married to your sweaty meat hands.”

Coby stared, something in her voice hooking him by an odd feeling of….familiarly? Surely not. He’d never seen this woman in his life. 

“Oi, just tell him your name so we can get paid and get out of here,” said the one called Louis. “Stop making this harder than it needs to be.” 

“You mean I have to look her up?” sighed Brannew. “Can you at least give me an origin?”

“East Blue.”

That strange feeling clenched. It was just a coincidence, Coby thought, his hands quavering just the tiniest bit on the paperwork.

“Oi, Onigumo sent her captain straight to Impel Down,” said Bertram. “We figured she might be worth something!”

“Oh do _not_ confuse me as part of that imbecile’s crew,” she snapped. “I don’t even have a bounty, these idiots don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“Did you put up with her mouthing off like this all the way here? Christ, you’re more patient than I am,” said Brannew, clearly unconvinced by the lie.

“Well,” he said, actually addressing the woman for the first time, looking down at her. “Care to identify yourself, pirate?”

She leveled her eyes at Brannew, contempt curling her lips, and spit on the floor.

“Charming,” said Brannew, dryly. “Fine, if you’re not going to cooperate, let’s have a look at you.”

The strange feeling in the pit of Coby’s stomach was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the situation as a whole. 

Brannew knelt down to and squeezed her face, as if inspecting a horse. 

She lunged and bit his hand.

Brandnew lurched his hand away with a growl and slapped her across the face. She overbalanced and fell to the floor, chains clattering.

Coby started, found himself wanting to move to help her, wanted admonish Brannew, but he felt rooted.

“You watch your mouth, pirate,” Brannew hissed, darkly. “You try that in Impel Down and they’ll rip your teeth out.” 

“Sorry sir!” said Bertram, as Louis shoved a dirty cloth into her mouth, knotting it behind her head as she struggled. “We should’ve-”

“It doesn’t matter, I think I have an idea who she is. The freckles give her away,” said Brannew, almost smugly, as the woman glared at him from the floor. “Smoker sent me a report from Loguetown requesting updated photos and a bounty adjustment on this one.”

He pulled open a drawer and withdrew a moderately sized file, thumbing through the pages.

“Right, here we are. Iron Mace Alvida, out of the East Blue. She’s been tagging along with Buggy the Clown for the past few months.”

Coby stared, incredulous. This couldn’t be right.

“That’s...not her,” he blurted, before he could stop himself. 

Brannew and the Marines looked at him. 

The woman’s eyes flicked to him for just a moment, and Coby felt a tremor of fear run through his body. A familiar fear. A fear that he had felt before. 

This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be.

“It’s... _not_ ,” Coby said, trying to keep his voice steady. “She doesn’t look like that.” 

The woman burst out laughing. The sound was muffled by the gag, but it was clear she was laughing.

“Oi, knock it off," said Bertram, yanking her hair. 

_Stop,_ Coby wanted to say, wanted to cry out. And yet that fear, a fear that was all too familiar to him, was creeping into his stomach, and he found himself frozen. 

“You’re not wrong, kid. Hence, why Smoker requested an update to her file,” said Brannew conversationally, thumbing through a handful of papers. “Some pretty dramatic changes since her first wanted poster, attributed to a devil fruit. But it’s her.” 

Coby felt as though he had just been punched in the stomach.

Brannew turned to Louis and Bertram. “Anyway, let's get you two paid. Did you remove all her valuables?”

Brannew bent down and thumbed her earlobe. She lurched away with a hiss of pain, her eyes watering.

“Of course, jade is fetching a good price these days!”

“Come on, I wanted to give ‘em to my wife. She likes when I give her loot from work.”

“Well I’ll give you half when I sell ‘em. Buy your wife some earrings with that.” 

“Alright, with Smoker’s update from her original bounty, a three way split is about 3mil each,” said Brannew. “That fair to you boys?”

“Yes sir,” they said, smartly saluting. 

“Pleasure doing business with you. One less scum out there on the sea. Get her out of here. She’s getting the carpet dirty.”

“Come on,” said Louis, hauling her to her feet. “You’ll head off to Impel Down tomorrow morning.”

She was trying vainly to fight off the two of them, as they shoved her out the door, her muffled swears and screaming echoing down the hallway.

"Come on, move your ass. Stop being dramatic."

“You okay, kid?” said Brannew.

Coby realized he had been standing there, staring, gawking. He felt as though he had just seen a ghost.

“Catch you off guard? ” said Brannew, with a wry smile. “Heh, you’ll get used to it. The only arrests you’ve seen this week have been your average thugs. But every now and then you get a woman and that’s different...with the hysterics and the drama. Pulls on the heartstrings, don’t it? But one minute its tears, and the next they’ll have their nails in your face. Best a kid like you sees this sort of thing now.”

Coby did not know how to say that was not at all what had unnerved him. 

“Don’t treat ‘em any different, it’s just business, kid,” muttered Brannew, going back to scribbling notes.

“Why…why were they cashing in her bounty?” said Coby, finally finding his voice. “I thought...I thought that money was just for bounty hunters. I didn’t know Marines could turn in a full bounty.”

“Well, they’re technically not supposed to,” said Brannew with a smile and a raised eyebrow.

Coby stared, confused. “Then why -”

“Well, think about it kid,” said Brannew. “That money’s been set aside to be paid out anyway. Would you rather see it go to some random bounty hunter who’s just in it for the cash, or going to someone like you?”

“But-”

“Look, so long I mark the bounty as paid, then who cares who it’s paid to? Might as well do what I can to help fellow sailors out. I was in your position once too,” said Brannew. “Wasn’t paid enough then and I still ain’t paid enough now. Surprised nobody's told you about how to cash in a bounty. I get a cut and you get a cut.”

“But that’s just doing our job,” said Coby. “It’s our job to arrest pirates. Why would we get more money than our salary, for just doing our job? I thought we were only supposed to take a partial bonus pay, or a commendation after the arrest and-”

“And bounty hunters aren’t just doing their jobs? Why should they get more than us?”

“Bounties are to incentivize citizens to do their part in reducing piracy. That’s already our job, and-”

“Kid,” sighed Brannew, giving him an appraising look. “Who cares where the money goes, its already been set aside to be paid out. If I pay it to a Marine or a bounty hunter, what’s the difference?” 

Coby’s mouth was very dry. 

“When will she stand trial?” he finally said.

Brannew looked up at him, eyebrows raised above his glasses. “Trial?” he laughed. “Kid, where have you been? Enies Lobby was wrecked last week! You think anyone is standing trial right now?”

“But-” 

“We’re sending her to Impel Down, what else would we do?”

“But she-”

“It’s just skipping a step. Do any of the pirates who stand at Enies Lobby ever get pronounced not guilty? Anyone ever walk free?” Brannew sighed, rolling his eyes. “No. Because it's a jury of their peers. It’s just a formality before we send ‘em off. Honestly if the government wants to save some money, they shouldn’t even bother rebuilding Enies Lobby at this point. No need for a judicial process when everyone is already guilty.”

“But, how is that justice?” said Coby, quietly.

“Putting scum like her in prison _isn’t_ justice?” asked Brannew, with an eyebrow raised. “You’re saying she’s _not_ guilty?”

“Absolutely not!” stammered Coby. “Of course she is!” 

“So what’s your problem?”

Coby bit his lip. 

“Enough with all this. Go file her record.”

Coby glanced down at the handful of papers. 

He as though a needle of ice had slipped into his stomach, as he read her name, _yes_ , it really was her name. He started at the two contrasting wanted posters of Alvida, a red stamp marked _PAID_ across both of them. He felt nauseated, looking at her face. 

He knew it had been an idle, irreverent dream to imagine arresting Alvida in some righteous blaze of justice. A fantasy, more than anything. But this...this went beyond his personal investment in wanting to see her behind bars, and was lost in some uncertain, tangled feeling. It was just logistics and money; what was the problem with that? She was still getting what she deserved. 

“You’re one of Garp’s brats, aren’t you?” said Brannew, quietly. “Heard about the circumstances he picked you up, after Morgan. He clearly thinks highly of you.”

He clapped a hand on Coby’s shoulder. “Look kid, it ain’t a perfect system, Garp’s been around longer than most of us, he’ll tell you the same thing. You’re a bright kid. Don’t go out of your way to make things harder for yourself. Don’t go looking for trouble.” 

Coby felt his hands quivering on the wanted posters.

He felt confused, robbed.

It wasn’t supposed to be done this way. 

* * *

“Tsuru had maps there older than she is! I could barely read them! She’s telling me to organize them by geography and I can’t tell what half of them say! Her handwriting is just as bad, it’s all chicken-scratch.” 

"Hey, Helmeppo-san?"

"Hmmm?”

"Did you know Brannew will split the bounty with Marines who show up with a pirate?"

"You didn't? I thought that was an open secret," said Helmeppo. "If it's a high profile arrest with a large bounty or lots of involvement from the higher ups, then obviously they'll follow protocol. But if a Marine has just rounded up some low tier trash, they'll go get the money. Brannew takes a cut. Most people would rather have that than just a percentage, obviously." 

Coby stared at Helmeppo. 

"I mean it's not _great_ ," said Helmeppo, awkwardly. "It's a little shady, I guess. But it's not like, the _worst_ thing. It's not a Buster Call or something like that. It’s just shifting the money around I guess.”

"They're not sending pirates to trial until Enies Lobby is rebuilt either," said Coby, solemnly. "I suppose I should have guessed that though. Not like trials were really...any good before, before Luffy wrecked the place. Everyone is just guilty. We don’t really have much of an actual judicial system."

"Is this going to be one of those nights?" asked Helmeppo, looking up from his kukuri knives. “I don’t know if I have a late night morality discussion in me.”

“Helmeppo-san,” said Coby very slowly. “I have to go do something.” 

“What?”

"I have to go do something. If anyone asks, I've been in here with you. This whole time.”

Helmeppo looked at him, perplexed. "What are you doing, Coby?"

"I'm not so sure myself," he admitted, striding to the door. 

"Should I be concerned?" 

"Probably," said Coby. "I'll be back in an hour."

"Hey wait, Coby, what-"

"No more questions!" Said Coby cheerily, ducking into the corridor. 

* * *

There were only a handful of cells deep beneath Marine headquarters. No pirate stayed there long, they were simply temporary holding cells until a pirate was moved to Impel Down or for execution. The floor stank of piss and mold, and the damp stony walls made seastone almost unnecessary, as seawater seemed to permeate and leak from every wall and orifice.

They weren’t usually guarded, and this was what Coby was banking on.

The situation was almost ludicrous to him, he couldn’t believe he was doing this. He hadn’t done something this profoundly stupid since he’d stopped Garp and Bogard from nearly killing Helmeppo, but this...this was another level of incredibly stupid.

Perhaps seeing Luffy at Enies Lobby was making him continue to demand space for his own definition of justice.

It didn’t take him long to find her cell. She was sitting on the damp floor, leaning against the wall, her eyes lidded in exhaustion. Her hands were cuffed in front of her now; they’d taken her coat and she looked decidedly miserable. Coby was surprised that it gave him no pleasure to see her this way, despite the many times he had imagined doing exactly this to her. 

“Hey,” he said, drawing up to the bars. “Do you know who I am?” 

He had not considered the fact that she might recognize him. 

She looked up and squinted at him blearily through dirty, matted hair. “The idiot who was standing in the corner gawking at me this morning?” she said, dryly.

“Okay great,” said Coby, pulling out a set of keys. “You’re coming with me.” 

“I’m not going to Impel Down,” she spit. “Come in here and I’ll break your neck.” 

As if by instinct, Coby felt that quavering, familiar fear rise in his stomach at the sound of her raised voice. And yet it wasn’t paralyzing. The shock of seeing her again was over. And this was what she was reduced to: bluffing and false bravado in chains. He almost had to laugh. 

“I admire your spirit, but I don’t think that’s going to work out for you,” said Coby. “Please just come with me.”

“Fuck off.”

Coby steeled himself. “I’m not taking you to Impel Down. I’m going to get you out of here.”

She gaped at him. 

“Are you messing with me?”

“No,” said Coby, a slight edge of desperation in his voice. “Please. You can stay here and _definitely_ go to Impel Down, or you can trust me.”

“Why should I trust you?” she snapped, drawing her cuffed hands in protectively. 

“You don’t have a lot of options,” said Coby. 

She looked him over, and then stood up. Coby had forgotten how tall she was, easily over a foot taller than him. He silenced that thread of fear in his stomach.

“Great,” he said, smiling, and opening the cell door. “We need to move.” 

“Get these off of me first!” she hissed, thrusting her wrists out to him.

The seastone cuffs. He didn’t dare unlock them just yet, it was too risky. 

Coby apparently hesitated too long. 

Alvida swung the cuffs into his jaw and he reeled back into the wall, his head smacking the hard stone. Seastone was heavy. She bolted down the hallway as Coby shook his head, dazed. He darted after her, activating _Soru,_ outstripping her easily.

Allvida skidded to a stop in front of him.

“Get the hell out of my way, I’ll hit you again,” she hissed. 

“It’s a maze down here if you don’t know where you’re going!” he said, spreading his arms wide. “I’m trying to _help_ you! Either you let me get you out of here, or you let yourself get caught again. But make up your mind, we don’t have much time.”

Alvida stared at him. “Why the hell are you doing this? What do you want from me?”

 _‘I want justice,_ ’ was what Coby thought, and he realized how foolish that sounded. What was justice in this situation? Surely it was not justice to let this woman who’d made his life misery for two years walk free.

“I want this done _right_ ,” said Coby, finally, gesticulating to the space between them, to all of this.

This. This fated encounter that Coby knew would come sooner or later. The promise he’d made back on her ship that he’d arrest her. All of this between them. He wanted it done _right._

“You want _what_ done right?” she said. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It’s me or Impel Down,” said Coby. “Choose.”

* * *

The one-man boats or dinghies that lined the harbor were much nicer than your average paddle boat. They were meant for small teams of two or three Marines on convert missions, but a single sailor could easily pilot them. They had to withstand a lot at sea.

And they conveniently went missing all the time because Marines were constantly taking them to neighboring islands and hitting up bars. A dingy or two missing was hardly of great concern. 

The irony of escaping in his own dinghy was not lost on him.

“You’ll have to take it from here,” said Coby, pushing her rather ungracefully into one of the little boats. “You’re on your own now. If you’re flying Marine colors in these waters you shouldn’t be bothered. Get back to your allies.”

She looked like she wanted to say something, chewing the corners of her mouth. 

“Why did you do this?” she asked, half confused, half accusatory. Her eyes were narrowed, but curious. 

“I told you,” said Coby. “I want to do this right.”

“I don’t know what that means, you stupid boy.”

“I just got you out of there,” said Coby, coolly. “Some people might say thank you.” 

“Do I know you?” she asked, staring at him. It was the first time she seemed to truly, actually look at him, not glaring or appraising. 

Coby took her hands and unlocked the cuffs.

“I mean it, who the hell are you?”

He smiled and shoved the boat away from the shore.

“Don’t get caught again!” he yelled after her, as she stared, incredulous. “Because if you do, it will be by me!” 

* * *

“ _Where_ have you been?” muttered Helmeppo, looking up from his hammock. 

“Oh, I was administering justice,” said Coby, brightly. 

“ _What_ does that mean?” said Helmeppo. 

“No more questions, Helmeppo-san,” said Coby jumping into the hammock, nestling against him. 

“Where the hell have you been? Just what exactly am I providing an alibi for?!” 

“Shhhh, no more questions,” murmured Coby, smiling. 

“Why is your jaw bruised? What the hell Coby? You think I’m going to sleep _now?!”_

“Shhh, goodnight Helmeppo-san,” yawned Coby.

“This is ridiculous! I demand explanations, goddammit Coby…”

Coby drifted off to idyllic fantasies of retribution, and a quiet, internal promise that when he did meet Alvida again, it would be on his terms.

 _His_ justice. 

**Author's Note:**

> The title is supposed to be 'questioning justice' / 'seeking justice' / 'doubting justice' ... I tried....
> 
> (Alternatively titled "Go the Fuck to Sleep")
> 
> So this work was first drafted up in 2017 and ultimately some pieces of it just got chopped out and put into my OPBB fic - to which you can see some similarities. I was cleaning out my drive figured it might be worth messing around with. Not the most original thing, but one of the more salvageable works from some of my old drafts. This has obviously been spiffed up and redone since its 2017 edition, which was much darker and took place post-ts. (This takes place between Enies Lobby and Impel Down).
> 
> And now I can rest because I have answered the question that nobody was asking but me of "Why did Buggy end up in Impel Down but not Alvida?" 
> 
> Thank you so very much Milo for supporting me and giving me my confidence back to post this. Thank you for making me laugh. 
> 
> Now go to sleep Coby. Please.


End file.
